


Living in the worsts parts

by saturnina



Category: Geostorm (2017)
Genre: Brother Feels, Brother/Brother Incest, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Max Has Nightmares, Plot As An Excuse To Write Porn, Plot So Thin As To Be Anorexic, Post-Canon, Sibling Incest, Small Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 16:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13505469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnina/pseuds/saturnina
Summary: Max opened his eyes and found himself nose to nose with the very man he seemed to kill, and to die with, every other night.





	Living in the worsts parts

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone knows a fandom is not truly a fandom until someone has written some smut about it. So I took it upon myself to open the Geostorm brothercest smut season. Paving my way to hell, one gay incest fic at a time, yay.
> 
> BTW, it might be somewhat OOC, but it's not like the characters were THAT developed in the film anyway, right? Imma just roll with it.

_Something's not_   
_right about what I'm doing but I'm still doing it—_   
_living in the worst parts, ruining myself. My inner life_   
_is a sheet of black glass. If I fell through the floor_   
_I would keep falling._   
~ "Birds Hover The Trampled Field", Richard Siken

 

It was 6.45 in the morning, and Jake was dead.

Jake was dead. Max saw him, a pulseless shadow amongst the debris of the ICSS. He had not made it. _Jake was dead_. He had sent him up there to _die_. He—

"Shush… Max, calm down. Max?"

As Sarah's soothing voice tried to pull him back to reality, Max hugged himself and felt his own arms clammy with cooling perspiration. Sarah's fingers carded through his hair as they would to a frightened child's, her soft voice whispering vague comforting words he could not understand due to the buzzing in his ears. His stomach was a clenching emptiness and his limbs were tingling, overtaken by the leaden weight of death. 

Jake is alive. Jake is alive.

He took a shuddering breath. Jake. Is. Alive.

Sarah continued to shush and hold him, and Max wished she would stop coddling him so he could at least retain some dignity despite freaking out. Not that it mattered. He had been freaking out a lot these last few weeks, and Sarah had witnessed it all.

When Max finally came to his senses, he could hardly stand the look Sarah was giving him. It was full of tenderness, but showing just enough pity to tear his pride to shreds. She had been in this position before, comforting him as he woke up from another—what? nightmare? panic attack?—until he was himself once more.

How pathetic. How vulnerable, how exposed. Max feared he was becoming all things he had spent his entire adult life trying to avoid. 

It was only a couple of hours later, during breakfast, that Sarah mustered the courage to talk to him about it. She told him, in the measured voice one would use to avoid rattling a wounded beast, that he should visit Jake and talk to him. Max refused.

"Then a therapist?"

He did not bother to dignify that suggestion with any response other than an uncivilised growl. Max quaffed his coffee wishing it was a glass of scotch. She might as well have told him to seek a hoodoo man, or an exorcist.

" _Something_ has to be done, Max! You can't go on like this. _We_ can't go on like this."

He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead tightly into the heel of his left hand as if attempting to stall a headache by sheer mechanical force. She was right. Something had to be done. _He_ had to do something.

Jake it would be, then.

~*~

The last time Max arrived unannounced at Cocoa Beach, he had been received by a very morose, if not downright aggressive, Jake Lawson. Somehow, he still expected his older brother to react the same way upon his arrival, remnants of the bad blood that had built up between them before the (almost) geostorm. So when Jake welcomed him with a big hug and a beer, Max wondered if he had accidentally fallen down the rabbit hole.

All things considered, hallucinating that his older brother was in a good mood seemed to be a pretty nice way to descent into madness. Max let the thought slide with a shrug.

Oh, to be hugged by his brother. His very alive and breathing brother, smelling of sweat, aftershave, engine oil and warm sun. _Jake is alive_ he told himself, breathing in that comforting musk. _Jake is alive_ as in a mantra. Jake was alive.

He sensed Jake move as if to pull back, so he held him tighter. _Just a little longer._ Being this close to Jake—alive and kicking Jake—made his eyes prick with unshed tears, but he did not want to freak his brother out like he kept doing to Sarah. _Just a little longer, please_.

He felt Jake's nose bump against his ear, burrowing into his hair. If his brother was bewildered by their frantic embrace, he didn't make a show of it.

~*~

The days with Jake were warm and sluggish. After his brush with death, Jake's usual mordancy and ready disposition to start fights seemed a lot more subdued, for which Max was quietly grateful. He watched his brother tamper with some old cars, never sure whether he was really fixing them or just messing them up to set useful pieces aside for a future invention. It was obvious that Jake never intended to finish any of that; everything was but a distraction, until he could fly back home again. Home, amongst the stars and the satellites that he so loved.

Home, where Max could not be.The imagery made Max's stomach churn and his heart pound just a little harder in his chest. He was not sure about how he would react when this day came. He tried to convince himself that he would simply cross that bridge when he got there. It would be a lot easier though if said bridge wasn't constantly edging into his consciousness like a stain, in the all too familiar shape of a space shuttle. 

God, he fucking _hated_ the space.

"…Max?"

Max opened his eyes, the bright Florida sun blinding him for a couple of seconds before the silhouette of his brother's body became clear. He hadn't even noticed that he had his eyes shut. Fuck. It was as if his thoughts and feelings were in mutiny, taking over his body and steering it towards the ‘here be monsters' corner of the map. He looked up at Jake, who had concern—but, thankfully, no pity—written all over his face, and tried to smile. 

He knew it came out more like a grimace, because now Jake was looking openly worried.

"Alright. Enough sun for you, buddy. Let's get inside."

"No, no, it's good here," Max tried to argue, but his tongue felt like a wet ball of cotton in his mouth. Jake was already pulling him up from the patch of grass on which he was seated to drag him back inside. 

Max had barely made himself comfortable on the messy sofa-bed he had been sleeping on when he felt a cool glass of water being pressed into his hands. The seat dipped as Jake sat down beside him, his shrewd eyes scrutinising Max as if he were a malfunctioning machine. Max wasn't even thirsty, but he gulped down the water just to avoid his brother's eyes. 

"What's the matter Max?"

"Nothing."

Jake rolled his eyes and snorted. "I'm gonna try it again—"

"There is no need to," Max grumbled, interrupting his brother. "There is nothing wrong."

With the corner of his eye, Max watched Jake fidget briefly, his body infused with nervous energy as if eager to _do_ something, because that was the only way Jake knew how to deal with things; he was a doer through and through. But then his shoulders slumped in defeat and he sighed, getting up and walking towards the door to go outside again

Max did not know whether to feel relieved or disappointed by that. He followed his older brother with forlorn eyes until the other man paused, hand on the knob, and turned back to face Max once more. Their eyes met and something inside them tottered on a tightrope stretched above the abyss of all truths they still seemed unable to share. Jake's voice broke the spell.

"If there is anything… _anything_ I can do, Max… then let me do it. Please."

And then Jake was out and Max was in, alone. Alone on the tightrope. Alone with his thoughts and problems, staring down into his empty glass as if the answers might be there, written within its very molecules, and wondering how the hell he was supposed to tell his brother what was wrong with him, when he himself had no idea.

~*~

It was 6.24 in the morning, and Jake was dead.

Jake was dead. Max saw him, a stain of blood on a large slab of Kevlar, floating silently amongst the wreckage. Max had failed. _Jake was dead_. He had failed taking care of him, cells and dust littering the void, indivisible now—

"Max? What's wrong? Max!?"

Max came back to himself, feeling strong fingers dig into the pale flesh of his arms, hands shaking him back and forth a little too violently. It would have been painful, if the vision that haunted him hadn't been even more painful. An emptiness. A void that would never be filled again. A stain. Jake—

"Jake?"

The shaking stopped. Max opened his eyes and found himself nose to nose with the very man he seemed to kill, and to die with, every other night.

Jake was alive.

"Max, please. Tell me what is wrong—"

"Jake—"

" _Let me help!_ "

This time when the tears came, Max made no effort to stop them. They billowed within him like an uncontrollable tide, propelling him right into his brother's arms, who caught him and held him. His brother. His foolhardy, loving brother. The small but fatal fissure on his sophisticated facade. Jake's hands cupped his face gently, his blue eyes intent on Max's as if devising a strategy to pull him out of that nightmare. Good ol' Jake Lawson.

And when the waves inside him surged powerfully enough to dislodge the stone in his throat —and _God_ , had it really been stuck in there for so long?—, Max heard a pathetic whine leave his own lips:

"Don't leave me."

And much to his surprise—because he still expected Jake to sneer at his fragility—, his body was trapped into the warmest of embraces, pressed down into the thin mattress of that uncomfortable sofa-bed, Jake holding him so tightly against his own body that Max was sure they would melt and coalesce and finally never be apart.

As his brother's heat thawed his stiff and numb limbs back to life, Max lifted a hand to touch Jake's face, tracing those eyebrows and eyelids and nose and lips that he knew so well. The carnal blueprint of a love he had forfeited in the hopeless minutes after the ICSS self-destruction, and for endless nights after. His brother, slipping through his fingers over and over again. Nearly lost and gone forever.

"I'm sorry Jake I—I sent you up there I didn't— I never—"

"It's not your fault, Max," Jake whispered, leaning on one arm to avoid crushing the younger man with his weight. "I wanted to go. And I'm alive, I'm _here_ Max…". And to punctuate his words, he took one of Max's hand and pressed it to the steady beat of his heart. Max gasped, his mouth dry as if full of ashes.

Jake licked his lips and Max pulled him down, back over him again, longing to feel his brother's weight on his body. He felt he would never know for sure whether Jake had survived if he could not feel that heaviness, that pressure… for so many years he thought Jake was just a burden he had to shoulder alone, but now he felt that Jake was the gravity that kept him coherent. Without him he would spin loose, broken and weightless like the debris that littered the Earth's orbit in a mockery of flight. Of freedom.

Max did not want to be free anymore. He wanted remain captive to his brother's love, his genius, his boldness. Jake's burden lying over him, always and forever over him.

"Jake—show me. Be here. Be here _now_."

His hoarse plea was cut short by a rain of kisses, on his hair, on his nose, on his cheeks and ears and neck, on his lips. Everywhere Jake could reach, he was kissing Max, unabashedly displaying his affection.

Max raised his knees up, allowing Jake to settle between them, wishing he could embrace Jake with his whole body. The kisses slowed down and now Jake lips rested tantalisingly right above his, barely touching, their shuddering breaths mingling in the single heartbeat that took them to make their decision.

Hesitation was futile, it changed nothing, not now that both Max and Jake were feeling so keenly the despair of each other's loss, and the exhilaration of finding each other again. Jake crushed his lips against his brother's, showing Max that he was here, _now_ , and that there was no other place he would rather be.

They pulled each other's old sleep T-shirts and underwear off amongst heated kisses and obscene groans, not even pausing to reconsider their actions. Nothing else mattered, as nothing ever does in the cold face of death but the sheer luxuriance of being alive. And Max wanted to be alive, alive with his brother, alive and breathing and fucking and making sure the indelible marks of this night connected them through the vastness of the universe.

Max felt Jake's growing hardness press against his own and moaned, exposing his neck to the onslaught of his brother's teeth and lips as they ground their groins against each other, slow and sweet and inexorable. As their movements became wilder, Jake's stiff cock slipped and slid between his buttocks, the change in the position coaxing a raw groan from the older man, which set every nerve in Max's body alight with pleasure.

God he wanted it. He _fucking_ wanted it.

Jake tried to move back to the position they were before, but Max stopped him. He raised his knees a little higher and wrapped his legs around Jake's waist, pulling him closer, trying to show with his body what he wanted, what he could not say with words. Jake pulled back a bit and held his brother's face between his hands, looking into his eyes with an expression at once perplexed and aroused.

"Are you— We shouldn't—"

Max pushed himself up and pressed his lips once more against Jake's, wanting him to shut up and stop thinking. No they shouldn't, but yes, he wanted it, and if they stopped now Max knew nothing else would be right between them again. With great relief, Max felt Jake's body relax above his as their lips moved lazily against each other, their tongues caught in a sweet dance that Max wished would never stop. In synchrony with their kisses and caresses, Jake began to gently rut his erection against Max sweaty buttocks, causing their breaths to quicken.

Goodness, he was going to die of the unbearable pressure that seemed to grow inside him, like liquid heat expanding inside his pelvic cavity, bigger and bigger until is threatened to spill through the seams of his overwrought body. He felt a keening loss when Jake got up to get some sort of lubricant to ease their movements, but thankfully his brother did not take long and was soon pushing a small tube of hand moisturiser—probably one that Olivia left behind—into his hands

"Help me here, will ya?"

Max wasted no time, the flip of the cap resounding like a thunderclap in the quietness of the room, and squeezed a considerate amount of lotion onto his palms before grabbing his brother's cock and stroking it with easy, fluid movements, ones he would use on himself. He watched as Jake's eyelids fluttered at the contact, low groans rumbling in his throat without ever escaping his lips. He stroked and squeezed, watching his brother's erection slip through his fingers, precome leaking and making everything so smooth and easy, intoxicated by the pleasure he could sense radiating from Jake's body, and knowing that he was the one causing it. Max prepared to hasten his pace when Jake's hands suddenly stopped his.

Jake pulled him in a sloppy kiss and then pushed him face down on the mattress, his forceful gestures betraying the intensity of his arousal. "Press your thighs together," he instructed in a breathy bark that made a shiver ripple up from Max's tailbone to his neck. He flinched a bit when more cold lotion was poured right on the spot where his now clenched thighs met his buttocks, and gasped when Jake pulled his hips up, forcing him on all fours, his own cock springing up to attention and already dripping onto the sheets, despite having been ignored so far.

He was glad Jake's trailer house was away from most neighbours because he was sure anyone in miles could listen to the utterly wrecked cry that tore from his throat when he felt Jake fuck into the clench of his thighs, the blunt head of his cock sliding wetly against the back of Max's balls. It wasn't really fucking, but to have his brother there, so close, so alive, taking that sort of pleasure from his body had him nearly sobbing.

Max felt Jake's broad chest press against his back as his brother crouched over him, his strong arms caging him in. "Touch yourself," Jake's voice rasped against his left ear, his beard scraping against his exposed neck. "Show your big brother how much you missed him."

At this he slumped forwards, his upper body pressing tightly into the mattress as his right hand snuck down to pump his own cock in tandem with his brother's thrusts, following the squelchy slap of Jake's hips against his buttocks. Jake continued to spill filth in his ears, telling him how he would fuck him for real when they had the time, stretch him slowly with his fingers and his tongue, fill him up with come and send him sore and limping and leaking back to Washington.

"Yes, yes, yes—" Max groaned, the simmering ball of pleasure in him growing with each of his brother's dirty words until his orgasm hit him, making him spill in his hand and onto the sheets, his body going loose everywhere except between his clasped thighs. He felt Jake's movement become jerky and uncontrolled as he rocked into him a couple of times more before letting out a long, low groan and slickening Max's legs, balls and even the crack of his ass with his release.

Jake collapsed onto the mattress beside Max and pulled him down for one last kiss. And when Max finally fell asleep, it was to the perfect lullaby of his brother's steady heartbeats.

~*~

It was 8.22 in the morning, and Max was alive, at last.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Disclaimer:** None of the characters mentioned in this fanfic belong to me, and nothing said here about them is true. No copyright infringement is intended.


End file.
